Take Me To Church
by SilverWolf7
Summary: Lucifer, while on a short job with Dan since the detective has cut him off for anything serious the past week, finds out the meaning of the word 'trigger' when he finds the place they are going is the church Uriel was killed in.


This is the second of three short stories tied in to my bigger Lucifer fic, Talking It Through. In which Dan finds out Lucifer has problems with churches that goes beyond 'pretending' he's the devil.

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Take me To Church

He had no idea what he had done to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment, but the first Monday after the whole fire victim fiasco, he had been put to work not with Chloe Decker as per usual, but her ex husband Daniel Espinoza. He was stuck doing grunt work for the week.

It must have something to do with the detective and her brand of humour, getting back at him for some slight he can't even remember causing. All he knew was that Dan was less fun, and more serious.

They were also working in a more dilapidated part of L.A than he was used to. All the buildings were older or falling apart or condemned, and he wondered how people could live in this part of the city.

"Are you sure we are heading in the right direction?" he asked for the third time in as many minutes. He did it for two reasons. 1) He was honestly not sure if Detective Douche was going to the right place or not, and 2) he knew it annoyed the hell out of him.

There was something familiar about the place, but he had no true recollection of the streets. That was until they pulled up to the curb in front of a very familiar church.

"Some priest came by here to see if anything was salvageable. Said the place was ransacked by teens most like. We're just here to check to see if anyone is loitering inside and then we can get out of here. Does that sound better to your high class tastes than trampling around in the dirt with us lowly peasants?"

He didn't answer. He was too busy staring at the church. It hadn't been teens, it had been an all out knock down fight between him and his angelic brother Uriel. He had ended up killing his brother to save the lives of those he cared about.

"Lucifer? You in there?"

He blinked. He had lost half the things Detective Douche had said while trapped in memories.

"Uh, last time I was in a church someone died in my arms. I'm having difficulties keeping it out of my mind."

For some unknown reason, he found himself reluctant to bring up Uriel's death with Dan, but the douche did know about Father Frank.

The last time he was in a church that wasn't this one that is exactly what happened. Churches tended to end in bloodbaths for him. He'd had to cut short his church visit with Ella because of the memories. He had become suddenly paranoid she'd drop dead on him.

He still kept up his end of the deal by going with her in the first place. Damn his mother for getting Azrael's dagger out into the world. Well, it was safe with him now.

Dan blinked at him. "Oh, shit, yeah and it was not too long ago either, just a few months back. You wanna wait in the car? It shouldn't take too long."

He frowned. "No. I need to get over this stupid fear of churches at one stage soon. Just...don't die on me."

He had been getting closer to Dan since he had been demoted and then asked for a divorce. It was actually really weird. He had started off here with no friends and plenty of acquaintances, and made his way up to 5 friends and many acquaintances. He had no idea how the friend part started, but he now had weaknesses that were not just physical in nature, but emotional too and he didn't like it.

He wondered briefly if Uriel had been insane as he had been going through his welcoming speech to Father Frank, after his death at the hands of the Spider in his church.

He shook his head. Nope, he wasn't thinking of that either.

Already he could feel his heart beginning to beat faster in his chest as anxiety began to eat at him.

"Lucifer, you look like you're about to throw up. Not in the car, please."

Taking a shallow breath, conscious that his airways were beginning to close up making his breathing harder and faster, he opened up the passenger side door and stepped onto the pavement outside the church.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down, using a deep breathing thing Doctor Linda was trying to teach him between sessions this week.

He wasn't too good at it yet.

And he knew there was no way he was going to be able to enter this particular church. Not for any reason. Far too many bad memories associated with it. "I...I can't. Sorry."

He turned back to the car opened it and crawled back in, but he unwound the window so he could breathe in air, as he felt he wasn't getting enough oxygen. But the air was rank and smelled of old church and Uriel was _dying_ in his arms. He hadn't wanted to kill him and he felt the sharp shock of what he had just done wash through him as he held onto his brother and he whispered his last words in his ear.

"Not your fault," were now words that haunted him everywhere he went, and the stupid thing was that it was entirely all his fault. He had grabbed up Azrael's dagger and used it against his own flesh and blood and he couldn't breathe.

He blinked and was back in the car and found that the breathing problem was still there. Panic shot through him. He needed to breathe or he'd die, and then he'd be back in Hell with no way of getting back and he wanted to stay here. L.A was his home and he loved it here, and he loved Lux and he loved his friends.

"Hey, man, come on. Out of the car. Being in an enclosed space is just making the panic worse." It was a familiar voice, sounding tinny and far away and he managed to move his head and saw it was Dan who had come back out from the church if the slight layer of dust coating him had anything to say about what he had been doing.

He shook his head. "Can't breathe. Think m' dyin'."

Dan shook his head. "No, you're having a panic attack. It'll pass in a bit."

He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. There was no way in hell he was having a panic attack. The devil did _not_ panic, especially at the mere sight of a church.

It was that thought that did it really. He thought he'd been doing better with the whole emotion thing. He opened the car door and spilled himself out onto the cracked pavement and vomited his lunch onto the concrete.

Well, Dan had warned him he was going to be sick.

Dan had managed to not be in the way, which was probably a good thing, as they had a bit of a drive to get back to their regular haunts and nothing is worse than being trapped for any amount of time in a car that smelt of vomit.

On the other hand, he did begin to feel better now that was out of his system and he chalked it all up to bad meat. Just a bit of food poisoning, not that it can affect him when Chloe wasn't around, but hey.

 _Not_ panic.

Once his breathing was more regulated again, he had taken a few swigs of bottled water left in the car and rinsed out his mouth of the awful taste of bile and stomach acids, he was beginning to feel better. Still shaky, but better.

A tissue was wagged in his face. "Here man, clean your face off. You wouldn't want anyone thinking you've been crying would you?'

He blinked and snatched at it, but not before bringing up a finger and rubbing a cheek with it. There were not enough tears there to be from crying, he knew that from personal experience. It was just a body reflex from vomiting.

"Haha, I'm not crying, douche."

Dan grinned at him, and for some unknown reason, it made him feel better. The teasing was normal. It was what they did. And he suddenly felt a lot better about what had just happened. Dan wasn't holding it against him.

He got up off the ground and stretched. He was oddly feeling sore all over.

He managed to keep his eyes averted from the majority of what had set him off, as he got back in the car and buckled up. He looked to Dan and grimaced. "And that was a first."

Dan soon had them back on the road and heading towards their precinct, and he wondered why a closer one couldn't have been called for this job. His thoughts were interrupted by a slap on the shoulder by Dan. "Welcome to the real life. Where bad shit can happen to good people and you suffer for it."

He raised an eyebrow at that one. "That's happened to you before?"

His partner for the day barked out a laugh that didn't sound funny in the slightest. "I don't think there's one person close to you that hasn't. I know it's happened to me, and to Chloe. It's probably one of the reasons Ella got so caught up in her faith. And I don't even want to know what sort of crap a psychiatrist has to listen to from others. There are a lot of bad things happening in the world. And it's our job to try and make that a little better. Sometimes it sucks."

He let out a sound of what he hoped sounded like agreement to that, letting the cool air of the open window soothe his still jumpy mind. "Never faced too much trauma as a club owner. Always tried to make sure everything ran smoothly as possible, no one hurt the dancers, that sort of thing. I don't run a sex club, no matter what you may think of me. And I don't sleep with the employees."

Dan threw a quick grin at him, before focusing back on the road. "Bet that was a lesson learned quickly."

He scowled. "Yes, yes it was. Can you drop me off at Lux? I don't feel too good."

"Sure. And do the world a favour. When you're alone, call your therapist. She can help you deal with this better than I can."

He didn't really want to tell Doctor Linda about what happened, but considering she knew literally everything else now about Uriel, he may as well add on this new phobia and the affect it was having on him.

He gave a small nod as an answer and, within 15 minutes he was sitting alone in his penthouse staring at the city spread out around him from his balcony, wondering if he should follow through with that last part and call his therapist.

He picked up his phone and dialled the very familiar number.

Dan was right after all. No time like now to get things done.


End file.
